


four walls are nothing without you

by inexhaustible



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, gratuitous lack of capitalization, kagami thinks for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexhaustible/pseuds/inexhaustible
Summary: kuroko crashes at taiga’s apartment a lot these days, and taiga doesn’t deny him the intrusion. there’s something lonely about living by himself in japan, something about being so alone in the middle of these cramped cities.– either way, it’s better with kuroko around.





	

**Author's Note:**

> after months of hiatus from the knb community, i write my first knb fic in a sleep-deprived fervor to avoid working on college apps. oops, maybe i’ll clean it up in the future, who knows. anyways this is sloppy writing, unpolished and un-beta’ed, but i’m decently proud of it, maybe. you can find me on tumblr @tsukujin, where you can shoot me recs!
> 
> title's pretty generic but it's inspired by "take me home" by us the duo, so there you go.
> 
> i love these two. go ahead and flame me if they're totally ooc though, haha, i wrote this to make myself feel better. there's only a small mention of sex, btw, in the second paragraph of section iii, and this implies asexual kagami, to an extent, so read into it what you will. as always, comments and kudos are appreciated.

**(i.)**  
they’re cleaning up after a quick match, hurriedly scheduled around hyuuga being back in town for a few days. taiga grabs the basketball, a towel draped comfortingly over his neck, when hyuuga glances at him, sidelong. “so, you and kuroko?” 

there’s an unspoken question there, and taiga doesn’t know how to answer him, feeling himself flush bright red. he shakes his head, tightening his grip on the basketball in his hands before dumping it into the bin. he resists the urge to fidget, to flee. truth be told, he doesn’t know what they are. they’re almost unhealthily codependent, close in ways he’d never imagined, but they’re not –  _that_. 

“w-we’re not like that,” he snaps, cringing at his own tone. “not that there’s anything, uh, anything wrong with that, but – we’re. we’re not,” he grits out, waving his hand lamely and hoping that he’s not quite as red as he feels. judging by hyuuga’s amused look, he probably is. 

taiga rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, wheeling the bin of basketballs back into the storage room and sighing. living in the us has made him fairly liberal by japanese standards, and he’s surprised hyuuga even asked. it’s not that taiga’s  _bothered_  by the implication, but – something about it makes his skin crawl a little, for reasons he can’t explain. he knows that he’s not even completely straight – sure, there had been guys, and girls, too, that he’d eyed for a little too long, empty thoughts and fantasies flitting through his head for half a second – but relationships had never really been something he’d thought about seriously. 

– but he’s thinking about it now.

“my mistake,” hyuuga says, finally, but there’s a lilt to his words like izuki’s, as if he’s in on a joke that taiga hasn’t caught on to yet.

* * *

**(ii.)**  
kuroko crashes at taiga’s apartment a lot these days, and taiga doesn’t deny him the intrusion. there’s something lonely about living by himself in japan, something about being so alone in the middle of these cramped cities. he doesn’t  _dislike_  japan, but there’s something profoundly isolating about living here that he can’t quite put his finger on. some nights, he stares out the window, lying awake in bed, trying to pinpoint the exact source of the melancholy, but it never comes. there’s something at once familiar and achingly foreign about the way the cities in japan stay so bright at night, reminding him of the winding los angeles streets, the sounds of sirens never too far away. it’s a little worse in college, when he doesn’t have the reassurance of his teammates at his back every day, when he’s had trouble making new friends.

– either way, it’s better with kuroko around. he brings life into taiga’s apartment, and despite what some people think, they have more hobbies than just basketball. 

(nothing will ever come close, though, he appends.)

kuroko’s drinking another one of those vanilla milkshakes from maji, and they’re watching a cheap action flick taiga found on netflix. not the trashy japanese netflix – taiga’s not proud of himself, exactly, but paying for a vpn is worth it if it means he can catch bruce willis in the twelfth iteration of die hard. kuroko, to his credit, doesn’t look too unimpressed with taiga’s movie selection, only points out plot holes with a blank stare, deadpan. it’s a familiar routine, and for a second taiga can pretend that nothing’s changed, that they don’t go to school on opposite ends of tokyo now, that they’re still teammates. before he can say anything, kuroko interrupts his thoughts.

“kagami-kun,” kuroko mutters, “you are aware that people cannot outrun explosions.”

“obviously.” taiga snorts a little, bumping his shoulder good-naturedly, glad for the excuse to break the silence. there’s another thing he’s not entirely used to again, in japan – these formalities. everyone calls him kagami, and though it’s not  _bad_ , it’s a little strange after all those years of “taiga, catch” and “taiga, pass.” kuroko goes the extra mile, stringing on honorifics and always being so damnably polite. he tries to imagine kuroko in america, tries to imagine kuroko at his side playing street ball in the sweltering heat, walking with him down the searing asphalt streets of los angeles and grabbing some trashy boba from little tokyo. _tetsuya_ , his mind supplies, and it seems off, somehow, taiga’s face heating up as if he’s done something wrong. he shrugs it off. 

the rest of the movie passes quickly, and kagami pauses the credits, grabbing the oily burger wrappers and getting up to throw them out. behind him, kuroko is silent as always, still perched patiently on the couch when he returns.

“are you staying?” taiga asks, not really expecting an answer. kuroko hums in response, patting the seat next to him on the couch, and taiga complies, sitting back down. kuroko stills, as if in a moment of thought, before he huffs, stretching his legs out over the other half of the couch and leaning back to pillow his head on the edge of taiga’s thigh. 

“put on another movie, kagami-kun,” kuroko says, stifling a yawn, and taiga swallows, complying. physical contact like this is another thing he’s not completely used to, and he’s not sure when it’s started. a playful slap to the head had turned into ruffling kuroko’s hair, at some point, and the way kuroko leaned against taiga when he was sleepy had turned into – this. taiga’s not complaining, though, not when kuroko is a warm, comforting weight against him and when there’s the new mad max movie to watch still, already pre-torrented onto his laptop. he adjusts the hdmi cord connecting the laptop to his crappy tv, starting the movie, and glances down at kuroko surreptitiously. kuroko’s hair looks almost white in the low light, and when kuroko’s breath evens out, shoulders going lax against taiga’s leg, he lets himself run a hand gently through kuroko’s hair, impossibly fond.

he thinks about hyuuga’s comment and a flash of  _fear-guilt-shame_  runs through his head, but he clamps down on it and dismisses it. 

kuroko makes a soft noise and leans minutely into taiga’s hand, and it makes something taut uncoil in taiga’s chest, as if he wants to shelter kuroko, or something, to just keep him like this, warm and soft and vulnerable, forever.

it terrifies him, the sudden surge of protectiveness, and it makes him a little angry at himself, as well. he breathes heavily and sorts through his emotions, trying to relax, grounding himself in the low hum of motorcycles on the screen, kuroko’s hair soft and silky beneath his hand.  _still, it’s not like that_ , taiga thinks, to the memory of hyuuga – or maybe more to himself. he stares down at kuroko, cataloguing his features: face relaxed and open in a way it rarely is, so different from his usual controlled blankness. 

taiga isn’t even so sure what he wants, himself.

_(so, you and kuroko?)_

* * *

**(iii.)**  
here’s the thing: despite what people think, taiga’s not stupid. he’s easily embarrassed with an unfortunate hair-trigger temper, he’s socially inept, and he has plenty of other flaws, other insecurities, but he’s not unintelligent. over the years, he likes to think that he’s matured. he does plenty of thinking when he’s on his own, just – not so much on the court. taiga doesn’t have a sexuality crisis, doesn’t lapse into some kind of kuroko-fueled angsty gay panic. 

actually, on some level, taiga’s not as surprised as he’d expected. it makes sense, in a way that scares him. before this, he’d wanted to be kuroko’s best friend, his partner on the court, his  _light_ , hell – and there was a pretty good chunk of it that didn’t have anything to do with winning interhighs. as for what he wants now – well, he’s still unsure, without the grounding influence of his team, of the court. he wants kuroko to be happy, he knows, that much is clear. kuroko’s rare smiles make something warm rush through him, and taiga wants to trace the curve of his lips, keep it on kuroko’s face for as long as he can. taiga’s not sure what that means, really, but he knows that if he’d want to love anyone, maybe it’d be kuroko.

he doesn’t think that it’s a  _sex_  thing, either, and taiga’s face flames up even in the darkness of his bedroom. kuroko’s not unattractive, but there’s nothing about him that really – does it for him. absently, he wonders if  _anything_  really does it for him, thinking about all the guys on the courts back in LA, hoarding their cheap skin mags and pirated porn, and he runs a hand through his hair, abruptly embarrassed. it’d never been a big deal, something that he’d really wanted enough to pursue, and he wonders if that makes him defective, in some weird way. taiga’s not too sure he cares, and thinking about it for too long makes him a little uncomfortable, so he stops.

see, the thing is, taiga just wants to keep kuroko close to him. he thinks about waking up and seeing kuroko, groggy and sleep-drunk, sipping a cup of shitty instant coffee in taiga’s pathetic excuse for a kitchenette and he  _wants_ , his chest aching with it. he thinks about silly domestic things: kuroko napping on his couch, kuroko stealing all the hot water in the shower, kuroko dropping a kiss on his temple when he leaves in the morning. taiga thinks about this crowded city, every single person caught up in their own work, their own worries, and how in the midst of the bustle he still feels so alone. he’s loud and he’s brash and he’s rude, by japanese standards, but kuroko sticks around, even though taiga’s probably annoyingly needy some days. kuroko has a way of looking at him like he’s looking through taiga, as if he can see taiga’s loneliness through his eyes, and it’s always made taiga uncomfortable. he wonders what kuroko’s seen, and god, he  _wants_ , and it starts to come together.

silently, he curses hyuuga with all his heart, resisting the urge to pull his hair out.       

* * *

**(iv.)**                        
taiga never gets sick. this is a fact of life that he has adamantly defended since he bravely combatted stomach flu in the third grade.

he tells kuroko this, as he lays in bed with chills, drawing up the covers around him. kuroko is completely unimpressed, and the thermometer beeps. kuroko glances at it, snatching it out of taiga’s mouth, and his eyes widen a little bit.

“kagami-kun has a high fever,” kuroko says, disapprovingly. “what’s more, kagami-kun is a terrible liar.”

taiga mumbles something into his pillow that sounds something like “slander.” kuroko whacks him across the head with a pillow, and he yelps.

“mistreating the sick? that’s low, kuroko,” he says, but he winces at the way his own voice sounds, raspy and miserable. it’s true though, his head feels like it’s burning up even as the rest of his body has other ideas, shivering and clammy. “why are you even here?”

“you didn’t return my calls,” kuroko says, simply, as if letting himself in is as easy as that. taiga’s not even going to ask how he got in, though the extra pair of footsteps he’d heard sounded suspiciously like his landlord.  _great,_ he thinks,  _another thing for that bastard to begrudge me for._  kuroko sighs, softly, putting a cool hand across taiga’s forehead. he turns his face towards kuroko’s hand, even though he feels his ears turn bright pink.  _blame it on the fever._

“finally, your poor circulation is good for something,” he mutters, closing his eyes, and gets an indignant huff from kuroko in return. kuroko’s hand moves up, carding through taiga’s hair, and it draws out that same ache of longing that’s beginning to be commonplace whenever taiga’s with kuroko. 

 _does he do this with everyone?_  to be fair, kuroko tended to shirk most physical contact at school, not that the japanese were big on hugs and embraces in the first place, compared to america. a wave of pain interrupts his thoughts, and his brows furrow, taiga hissing out a soft breath. kuroko moves closer, brushes his thumb over the wrinkles in his brow, and taiga stops breathing a little bit when he feels cool fingers glide over his cheek. he tries not to think about how he’s probably turning an even deeper shade of red, suddenly immensely grateful for the fever.

he opens his eyes, glancing up at kuroko through half-lidded eyes. kuroko’s lips are pursed almost imperceptibly, his brows drawn slightly down. on anyone else, it’d be unreadable – but taiga knows kuroko, and on kuroko, it’s a face of deep concern. 

“hey,” he starts, and clears his throat in an attempt to make his voice sound better. it doesn’t work, but he continues. “you don’t gotta worry about me. i’ll be fine, seriously. i don’t want to get you sick.”

“kagami-kun is stupid,” kuroko says, pointedly, and leaves to rummage through taiga’s cabinets for some cold medicine.  _i’d worry about you anyways_ , taiga translates, but he’s not sure how much of it is wishful thinking. he lets his eyes linger on kuroko’s form as he walks away and tries not to think about how important kuroko’s become to him, how much he feels like something inside him wants to break when kuroko’s touches linger the way they always do. kuroko is real and genuine in a way that he feels nobody else is in this fucking city, and he’s not sure when he started to miss the states so much, but he glances the other way, at the sliding doors leading out to his balcony, and thinks of los angeles. 

kuroko returns with pills and water, scooting close and handing them to taiga, kuroko’s fingers lingering and skittering down taiga’s wrist as he hands it off in a way that taiga swears is purposeful. taiga takes a deep breath, ignoring it, and swallows the pills he’s given, rubbing absently at his temples. kuroko takes the empty cup out of his hands, setting it back on the nightstand before grabbing taiga’s wrists, pulling them away from his face and replacing them with kuroko’s own. kuroko’s hands are cold as always, but they rub soothing circles across his temples and scalp, massaging pressure points. kuroko’s eyes are intent, but there’s something in them that’s surprisingly soft and worried in the way he looks at taiga and it makes taiga  _hurt_ , a little, makes him want to do something stupid like pull kuroko in and kiss him. they’re so close together, and taiga glances at kuroko’s lips for a split second before he looks down again. 

 _it’s not right_ , he thinks. not because they’re both guys, or whatever, but because taiga doesn’t think kuroko’s into him, anyways. it’s still asia, after all, and despite how close he is with kuroko, there are quirks that people can overlook – messy eating habits, mediocre grasp of japanese – and there are things that people just can’t, and liking his best friend as more than just a friend is pretty high on the list of things taiga’s not sure he ever wants to tell anyone here. in california, things were different – hell, when he was there it was legal to get married, even though some bullshit proposition overturned that after he got back to japan – but this wasn’t as easy. more importantly, it’s  _kuroko_ , and he’s not sure what he’d do if he fucks up their friendship over something like this.

gently, he pulls away from kuroko’s hands, his whole body protesting, and lays down again, staring up at the ceiling.

“it’s getting late,” he says, even though he knows damn well that kuroko’s stayed more nights than he can count by now. kuroko frowns a little, and if taiga didn’t know better he’d say that kuroko was almost  _pouting_. 

“all the more reason why kagami-kun should go to sleep,” kuroko insists, pulling the blankets up around him. it’s ridiculous, really, because if anything, taiga’s the one that should be taking care of kuroko.

– the minute he thinks that, he feels guilty. kuroko’s still a guy, and sure, he’s small and he looks fragile, but kuroko is stronger than almost anyone else he’s known. he swallows down his injured pride and lets kuroko tend to him, trying hard not to stare. he  _is_  sleepy, and he turns onto his side, burrowing a little deeper into the blankets. 

just before he drifts off, taiga thinks he feels fingers run gently through his hair, thinks he imagines a light kiss on his temple.

* * *

**(v.)**  
kuroko stares at the key in his hand, and taiga shifts his weight back and forth in the silence, unsure of what to say.

“i just thought,” taiga starts, “you already come over so often, so, i, ah…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously, trying not to trip over his words. “you don’t have to take it if you don’t, y’know, if you don’t, uh –“ 

suddenly, kuroko smiles, and taiga shuts his mouth. he’s beautiful,  _god_ , and it’s such a small moment, but taiga wishes he could keep this forever.

“thank you,” kuroko says, soft, eyes still locked on the key in his hand.

“yeah, well, you let yourself in so much you may as well have a key. saves me trouble, you troublesome brat,” taiga says, but he knows that his face is still bright red, eyes locked firmly on the ground beside kuroko’s shoes. “plus, i, ah. i like having you here,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible, but when he looks up kuroko’s face is open and happy, gaze locked on his. something unreadable – mischief? – flickers through kuroko’s eyes when he speaks again.

“is kagami-kun asking me to move in?” kuroko asks, innocently, and taiga makes a surprised, choked noise. he swallows down the indignant yell that threatens to escape him, and instead thinks it through. when taiga replies, it’s shaky, and he hates it – but he’s gotta say it, right? he’s gotta ask.

“do – do you want to?” taiga glances at kuroko again, schooling his expression into a semblance of propriety, trying not to look hopeful. he thinks of this city and this apartment and how it’s always too quiet, too hollow despite the sounds of the city below, how he’s too alone. kuroko’s gaze shifts, and there it is, that look that makes kagami feel like he’s on display, as if he’s not even there. 

“yes,” kuroko finally replies, and his voice is so quiet it’s almost a whisper. “i think,” he says, pausing, “ that i would like that very much.” another beat of silence passes between them. “kagami-kun is very kind to me.” 

kuroko speaks tentatively, as if he’s afraid taiga will retract the offer, as if he doesn’t believe what’s being offered to him, and taiga hates it. taiga wants to give kuroko anything and everything, wants to make him realize how much he matters – not just to taiga, but to the world. taiga looks at kuroko and thinks,  _you’re amazing_ , and thinks about this wonderful boy who’d fulfilled all his dreams of being the best, who’d followed him off the court and to college, who’d never stopped believing in him even after he’s walked off the court, and he feels as if he’s about to burst. 

his hands itch to do something, to touch kuroko, and he’s never been one to hold back impulses for long, so he stretches a hand gently under the side of kuroko’s jaw, pressing a kiss quickly to kuroko’s forehead. _that’s not too weird, right? it’s not impossible to take back. it’s safe,_  he thinks to himself frantically. he starts to pull away, but kuroko raises a hand and puts it over taiga’s, still touching him where his jaw meets his neck, and taiga’s brain short-circuits.

“don’t panic, please,” kuroko says, and before taiga can ask kuroko’s already tugging his collar down with his other hand, stretching up onto his toes to press a kiss to the corner of taiga’s lips, hesitantly – and taiga really,  _really_  doesn’t need to be told twice, leaning down and adjusting the angle so that their lips meet properly. a jolt of warmth spreads throughout his body even though the kiss is completely chaste; taiga’s pretty sure he’s bright red, but he sucks at kuroko’s bottom lip, just a bit, before pulling away. kuroko rocks back onto his heels, but his hand still grasps at taiga’s shirt and there’s a faint blush on kuroko’s cheeks. taiga stares at him, sliding his hand up to cup kuroko’s face, still a little in shock. kuroko smiles, a little, and huddles a little more securely into taiga’s personal space, leaning against him.

“kagami-kun is very kind to me,” he repeats, into taiga’s shoulder, and taiga wraps his arms shakily around kuroko, burying his face in his hair, and laughs a little, just so that he doesn’t do something embarrassing like cry, because he feels like he’s a balloon with his strings cut, floating off into the sky, untethered. he’s not sure what’s happening, but he’s pretty sure it’s good. this is good. 

still, because this is kuroko, and because taiga’s an insecure bastard, he whispers something into kuroko’s hair that sounds an awful lot like “stay?”

kuroko nods into taiga’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to taiga’s neck.

“is this okay?” kuroko asks, and taiga stifles the urge to laugh.  _of course,_  he wants to say,  _you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me – loving you is easy. this is easy_. but he doesn’t, just presses another kiss to the top of kuroko’s head and nods, because talking is harder than he’d expected and because kuroko knows it, anyways, he’s got to.

“yeah,” taiga says. “more than okay,” and then kuroko smiles again and leans up to kiss him for real again, and again, and again.

* * *

**(+)**  
“do you miss america?” kuroko asks him one day, when they’re leaning out on his balcony, his head pillowed on taiga’s shoulder.

“yeah,” taiga says, looking out at the tokyo skyline. “sometimes. seems like such a big city, here, but nobody really…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely with a hand before continuing, “nobody really cares, i guess. it’s lonelier here.”

taiga glances at kuroko –  _tetsuya_ , his brain whispers – and laces their fingers together, looking away. he reminds himself to send a thank you text to hyuuga, to treat him to drinks the next time he comes over from osaka.

“ _was_  lonelier, maybe.” 

he thinks about the los angeles streets again, thinks about taking kuroko there someday, thinks about watching kuroko’s skin tan in the blazing sun, about kissing him in public and not giving a shit about who sees. taiga’s beginning to think, maybe someday, kuroko would let him.

_**end.** _


End file.
